Midnight, Midnight
by missmcweir
Summary: Midnight, the SGC deserted. An ambush on Daniel does not have quite the consequences Sam expected... but then, her rational part was lost somewhen.... SD


_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Stargate SG – 1._

_**Rating**: for language, implied situations, and, as usual, in order to be on the safe side._

_**Author's** **note**: Short drabblish style exercise I felt in the mood to write after rewatching Prometheus Unbound. I have a tendency to describe a very short interval with a lot of words, so please bear with me and let me know what you think…_

My fingers run down his strong arms, uncovered by his usual tank top. He shivers, he does not know it's me, cannot see me, and would probably never expect me to do this… but how could I be able to restrain myself, seeing the toned structure of his bare arm before me. I know that he would like to turn, investigate who does this to him, but I also know that he does not dare. Maybe it is the fear of destroying a special moment, as this moment just _ascended_, or the fear of destroying something else.

Nobody is to be seen. The corridor in the SGC is empty, and it is not very likely that somebody will come this way. The fact that it is also considerably past midnight does add to that. In fact, not a lot of people are on the base right now, so at least he should not have problems guessing whose unforeseen presence is disarranging him so much. I smile to myself, as I continue to trace the lines on his arms and feel him stiffen, surely listening for any sounds that might tell him more and not lead him to exclaiming false assumptions. He would surely find that embarrassing, calling out some person's name, accusing her of attacking him in this way, and then finding it is someone else. There might also be the fear to hurt the person who is actually doing this to him, fear of letting her think that he would actually prefer someone else to attack him. That sounds queer, but it is actually a compliment. He _is_ very considerate.

But maybe he doesn't think at all, and it's only me musing.

He still has not dared to turn, but he relaxed a bit and I can sense him smile. I move my hands higher, up on his shoulders, and start tracing the seams of his shirt and then the lines of his neck, where the fine line of hair stops. I liked his hair when it was longer, although it made him look boyish. Now, he looks dangerous – for me. Right now, I also like the t-shirt, although I always thought that suits made him look professional and gentleman-like, and sexy. I have always been known for falling for the guys in suits, it really became a habit. You just never exactly know what is underneath, and I love mysteries. But, for the first time in my life, I realize just how sexy a plain black sleeveless top on the right person can look.

I do not even know why I waited for him. Strike waiting, it was more like an ambush, and I am admitting it. No denial whatsoever. But when he came out, talking was wiped from my mind and every intention gave way to the urge of touching him. See where it got me.

He must have been on his way home, ready for a few hours of sleep before yet another eventful day. And I am hindering him. Not that he could not simply walk away, but at the moment, he does not seem inclined to go. I carefully move back to his shoulders, and I can feel the tense parts, evidence of too long desk work over some piece of ancient language. I try to loosen the knot a bit, and he lowers his head to give me better access to where his neck meets with his shoulders.

I near myself and my lips softly and shortly brush the skin. There are scars and bruises, from off world missions, general hazards, and maybe from my own hands, evidence of this attack? I caress the delicate skin with my breath, as his breathing starts to get uncontrolled. My hands still move along his neck, down his arms and I just know how much of a distraction to thinking I am right now.

In fact, this whole action was totally unplanned, and that is a very rare thing. I usually have a plan, or rather two. But whatever made me do this instead of trying to talk to him, I want to keep it. Not that I do know what will ensue. At the moment, I just savour this moment of closeness, and power. It is rather a pity that I cannot move my hands to his front and hug him, as he would see my engagement ring and might feel a bit – put out. Considering it strictly, I should stop immediately, vanish into thin air and go to Pete's place to apologize. The problem is the vanish into thin air part. As soon as I stop, he will turn and there is no way I can run from that. Maybe it would be indeed a good idea to let him turn, see me, and then let him decide how to handle the situation.

I should stop worrying, and carpe momentum, but that has always been one of my problems. Having spent the last minute considering unpleasant reactions, I nearly missed how wonderful it feels to be close to him, and how safe it makes me feel. This is definitely weird – I am in no danger, but if I had done what I am doing now to any other person, I would have been very afraid of their reaction. But not with Daniel. Something tells me that he wouldn't use this against me, or have the urge to report, or even make some remark. The benefit of our friendship is that even such close proximity, with such a distinctive heading towards intimacy, leaves no doubts as to loyalty. I am still risking an awful lot, as Daniel might be embarrassed, but he has grown strong in the last years – also in an emotional sense. He can handle this, I believe. At least, I hope he can.

It also amazes me now, on seconds thoughts, that I never-ever got the urge to do this to Pete. In fact, I never felt as close to him as I do to any of "my guys", and I most certainly never felt bound to him with this particular loyalty that I reserve for them. Right now, I do wonder what made me accept the proposal, and I begin to think that it was a mistake. How am I supposed to spend the rest of my life with Pete if I never feel like this with him? This funny bubbly feeling inside, partly happiness, curiosity, comfort and lust is reserved to SG-1, and Daniel in particular, because he, on top of everything else, makes me feel home. I do wonder, quite suddenly, what love feels like if not like this…

Upon these considerations, my hands must have stopped, and he, his considerate self, must have felt the change of atmosphere. It must have been rather imaginative, not to say arousing. Something you enjoy as long as it lasts, but what is too complicated to know all about. That's probably why he wouldn't turn. As long as you do not acknowledge it, you do not have to believe in it, or something similar. But now, everything erotic is gone, and he must have felt how my feelings went from sensual to disturbed… He turns, and smiles knowingly. I love his smile, when it makes his eyes glitter like precious aquamarines. Then, he pulls me into an embrace, not needing words to understand that I just changed the course of my life, and that his role will be a lot more extended in it. As if to give his consent, he kisses my hair and whispers: "Always…"

Finis

_Please be so kind as to review - this was my first SG-1 story, and I really hope that everyone stayed as much IC as possible…._


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